Death Sentence
by Shockra2000
Summary: As my eyes scanned the arena, I realized I might actually have a bit of an advantage, an advantage that could be the difference between life and death.
1. The Reaping

I woke up and an instant feeling of dread washed over me. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, glancing over at my eleven year old brother as he slept in the bed across the room from me. His chest slowly rose and fell as he dreamed, unaware of fear or harm or oppression. He didn't know what it felt like to stand, waiting for someone's name to be called, praying it wasn't your own.

I got up out of bed and looked out the window. The ocean surf was rolling against the sand as it did each morning, but today I could not take off into its arms as I usually did. I felt trapped.

I sighed and realized there was no getting out of what I had to do. I had to get ready for the reaping, and only after it was over, could I enjoy the rest of the day.

But still. In the back of my mind, there was always the chance that my name would be called.

No. I shrugged it off. I was in District 4. A career district. If my name was picked, someone would surely volunteer, right?

I slinked off into the bathroom and splashed water on my face. Looking up at myself in the mirror, I saw my crystal blue eyes staring back me and my frizzy brown hair sticking up everywhere. Well, at least my hair USED to be brown. It's slowly been bleaching itself to blonde in the rays of the sun. My skin looked blotchy and uneven and I hated the fact that I was fifteen. I took the days when I didn't have blemishes popping up all over my face for granted. But if you got passed that, cute freckles were sprayed across my cheeks and nose.

I sighed. Well, I had a lot of work to do.

I combed my hair out and started to make myself look more presentable. I rubbed some pale mixture over my face that helped dull my blemishes down, but it was nothing like the make-up that they have in the Capitol. I put in my favorite seashell earrings and went back to my room to see my brother groggily sitting up.

"Hey, Seidon." I said. "Happy Hunger Games."

He grinned. "Morning, Sandy." He always called me that even though I _hated_ that name. I prefer Sandra.

"This is your last year being safe." I told him. "You better savor it."

He shook his head. "Nah. I'm ready to get into all the action. I'm a natural fish, my survival skills are probably some of the best around, and when it comes down to it, I'm all for strategy."

Although I hate to admit it, he's right. I'd hate for him to have to go into all of the action, but if he did get reaped, he'd actually have a fighting chance. Yet me, on the other hand... well, I'm another story.

I walked out of the room and to find my mother.

"Good morning, gorgeous." She greeted me.

I blushed. "Mom..."

"Sorry." She shrugged. That was just how she greeted me every morning. But I detested it. Many guys have liked me because they thought I was pretty, but when they had gotten passed that, they found out that I was smarter then them, and I guess that always intimidated everyone.

"I know just what you should wear today."

I followed her to her closet and watched in awe as she pulled out a gorgeous aquamarine dress. It was fancy, but not too fancy. Layered like waves, it had that 'cold-shoulder' sleeve look to it. It was beautiful.

"What are you waiting for? Try it on."

I walked to the bathroom again and put on the beautiful dress. I styled my hair to my liking and added a pearl bracelet. As I looked in the mirror again, I didn't see a scrawny one hundred pound, five foot four girl, but a gorgeous adolescent billowing with confidence. I stepped out of the bathroom. My mother grinned. "And I thought you couldn't look anymore beautiful than you already were."

Thanks, mom." For once, I took her compliment and hugged her.

"Now, go. You have to get to the reaping pretty quickly if you want to get there on time. Your brother and I will be out in a few minutes."

I headed out the door and found my friend, Clarissa waiting for me outside. "Morning, Sandra. Happy Hunger Games."

"May the odds be _ever_ in your favor." I laughed.

She took my hand and together we made our way to the town square. When we got there, she made her way over to the fourteen-year-old section, and I went over to the fifteen-year-old area. And then we waited.

Marinda Sinclair stood up at the podium, introducing us to the event. The little bit of happiness I felt this morning when I tried on my dress vanished as this overwhelming sense of doom invaded my mind. Someone had to be picked. What if it _is_ going to be me? My heart started beating erratically as Marinda's hand sunk into the girl's bowl and swirled around, seeing which piece of parchment was the best to pick. Suddenly, she stopped and dramatically paused as almost every girl was fighting the feeling of nausea.

"Sandra Calloway."

Eyes turned to look at me, but I hadn't heard what she had said.

"Sandra Calloway, where are you, dear? Please come to the stage."

I swallowed and realized that this was no joke. I was the unlucky girl who had to battle to the death. I caught back tears as I made my way to the stage. No one volunteered. What? This was _not_ supposed to happen.

"Now for the boys." Marinda sauntered over to the boys bowl and grabbed another piece of paper.

"Briant Gambell."

I sighed. Great. Way to pick the biggest, most conceded jerk to be my district partner. Awesome.

He ran his hands through his bronze hair and flashed his white teeth at me. I distinctly looked away.

After the closing of the ceremony, they took us to the justice building. My mother and brother were the first two people to come. My brother just ran over and hugged me. Tears, real tears, were pouring down his face. "Sandra, oh, this isn't fair. You were always so good at everything. But never at athletics. What are you going to do?"

"I don't know." I shook my head sadly. This was practically a death sentence. "But I'll try to think of something. No way I'll go down without a fight."

No one said anything for a few seconds. "Seidon?"

He looked up at me and even though he always was trying to act older than he was, in this moment, I could see just the scared little kid he really was. "Please don't volunteer yourself in future years. Even though I know you porbably could beat them if you wanted to, things don't always go the way you think they will. Please don't volunteer. For me."

"Alright." He nodded. "I promise."

We talked for the rest of our three minutes, and with tears in my eyes, I saw my brother and mom walk out. I realized that this was the last time I'd ever see them.

The next person that came in was Clarissa. "You can do this, Sandra. You really can. Although you don't realize it, you can. I'm observant, and since we've been friends since we were nine, I've learned some things about you. You may not be the most athletic or the strongest, but you have something in you that no one else has. You have determination, you have the brain, you have the resourcefulness. Don't you dare think for a second that you're out of the game completely. You _can_ win."

When her time was up, she left. I was escorted to the train and I looked out the window as I watched my district fade from sight.


	2. The Chariots

When we arrived at the Capitol, it felt more like a prison than a city. I was shown to my room and I promptly threw myself down on the bed and cried. I had never done anything wrong, yet here I was, sentenced to death. Do you know what it feels like to know that in a few days, someone will probably be slicing your throat open? It's a horrible feeling.

I was called to dinner by Marinda and as I started eating, my mentor, Corral, introduced herself.

"Hey, kiddo." She beamed.

She looked around twenty, which would make sense she she couldn't have won the games more than over five years ago.

"Hi."

"So you're the lucky girl I get to mentor. Any special qualities you have? Best weapon?" As she spoke, she blew a bubble of her gum and loudly popped it.

"Um... no. And strategy?" I almost asked, eyeing her skeptically.

I heard her sigh, and if I could bet on what she's thinking, there's no doubt in my mind that it'd be, 'She's as good as dead.'

"Alright, well, it's a darn good thing you're cute cause with a little make-up and glitter, we might be able to get some sponsors for you yet."

"Thank you...?" What's the proper way to respond to that?

"No, problem! I'll be back tomorrow to help you before the chariots." With a wink, she left me to finish my dinner with only the company of Marinda.

"Where's Bryant?" I asked.

"Oh, he came down for dinner early."

"Oh." I was far too happy to know this since I'm not too fond of the guy.

Marinda stirred up some small talk, and I easily went along with it. I'm kind of a people person.

After dinner, I resigned to my room. Tomorrow was going to be a big day since it was the chariot ride.

I woke up and felt terrible. I was going to be getting a makeover. Who knows what they'll try to do to me.

A small team of three zany characters burst into my room and started to look at me. In strange, high pitch accents they started talking.

"Hello, darling. We're your prep squad. We're going to get you looking gorgeous before you go meet your stylist."

"Alright..." I agreed cautiously.

Within minutes, they were already plucking my eyebrows, waxing my legs, and shampooing my hair. They were babbling on about how excited they were about the games this year and what not, but I tried to tune them out.

When they finished, I honestly couldn't really tell that much different from when we started, but since I didn't want to hurt their feelings, I just smiled, "Wow, I never thought I could look so great!"

"Oh, you're welcome, darling!" They soaked up my compliment with glee.

They waddled out of my room before my stylist, Bolt, came in.

He walked around me a few times. "District 4, hm?"

"Yes, sir." I kept my head low since he had a sort of intimidating vibe.

"Well, how good are you at being sexy?"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard right."

"I'm about as sexy as a chalkboard." It was no lie. I'm about as flat as pancake. Up in the chest, I mean.

"But that's the thing..." He said, a small smirk pursing on his lips. "We can take care of that. But how good are you at acting?"

In school plays about the history of our district, I have always gotten the lead. My mom says I was a born performer, that is, when I set my mind to it. "When I want to be, I can get people standing right in front of me to believe that I lost a leg in a shark attack."

"Then this might just work."

I swallowed. Whatever this was, well, I just hope it doesn't involve nudity. Skinny dipping was actually last year's theme for the chariot, and I can only pray that they have the decency to be more modest this year.

My prayers are answered when Bolt pulls out a seashell bra and a mermaid tail. The tail actually looked real. I can't wait to get into it, which is definitely a change from this morning's dread.

"You're going to look fabulous!"

Placing my seashell earrings back into my ears, I took a deep breathe and boarded the chariot. Bolt slid my tail over my bathing suit bottom and took a good look at me.

"Perfect, kid. Just remember- you're supposed to be a mermaid. And mermaids are known for their sensual nature; sitting on rocks in the sunlight, brushing through their long blonde hair, and seducing sailors."

Yeah, totally sounds like me.

"So play it up."

"What ever you want, Captain." I saluted him.

He walked away just as Bryant stepped on board. His bronze hair was spiked in the front and he was wearing sunglasses. Every inch of him was painted either yellow or orange. Without a shirt, his six-pack was gleaming like he was the sun. Oh wait. He WAS the sun.

Whatever his stylist had done, it was brilliant. He seemed to be glowing, practically radiating off UV rays. I had to give her a hand.

"So let's get this show on the road."

The chariots from District 1 and 2 left and as always, the tributes looked dazzling. But this year, I had a feeling we'd be memorable, too. District 3 followed suit until it was our turn.

We made our way into the stadium. Bryant began flexing, while I coquettishly started brushing through my hair extensions they gave me and posing in a way I would not have been proud to do back home. But here, sponsors equal life or death. So if posing rather provocatively gets me sponsors, it's worth it.

Cheers erupted around the stands as they saw us coming. People started throwing flowers in our direction and shouting our names. My normal response would be to start waving and smiling, but I was under strict orders to look like I didn't even realize they were there. By the time we stopped moving, I was exhilarated, my body pumping with adrenaline. It was amazing to think that I had just been broadcasted over the entire country, over all of Panem!

Oh, god, what did my mother think of all of this? The thought was horrifying. I mean, she must surely not approve.

Oh, well. Too late now.

With one last wave, the chariots departed again. If today was a long day, tomorrow would be even longer.

That's when the training starts.

Oh joy.


End file.
